


THE CAPTAIN HAS A COLD

by JanewayorNoWay



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23468707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanewayorNoWay/pseuds/JanewayorNoWay
Summary: When Captain Janeway succumbs to a common cold, Seven seizes her chance.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Comments: 13
Kudos: 145





	THE CAPTAIN HAS A COLD

“Oh god,” Janeway groaned as she woke up, her voice huskier than usual. “I have a cold.” She hated colds. As much as science had advanced, they had never found a cure for the common cold. She lay in bed, her entire body an ache, her sinuses blocked, her body heavy with lousiness. She tapped her comm badge, “Janeway to Chakotay.”

“Chakotay here, Captain.”

“I’m sick, Chakotay.”

“That cold finally get you? You couldn’t make it stand down with your force ten glare?”

Her commander seemed to think now was an appropriate time to tease his Captain. She started to scold him, but a thick, wracking cough exploded from her lungs. When it quieted down, she had almost no strength left to sign off, “Janeway out.” She fell back asleep, only to be awakened hours later by a chime at her door. “Come in…” she could barely whisper. She forced herself into a sitting position, which exhausted all her remaining energy. The chime sounded again. “Computer, who’s at my door?”

“Seven of Nine is at your door.”

“Please let her in.”

She heard the doors slide open and listened as a confused and tentative Seven made her way further and further into her quarters, “Captain?”

“In here, Seven.”

Seven rounded the corner to her Captain’s bedroom. Kathryn wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw Seven momentarily scrunch her face, like you would at a kitten. Apparently a snotty, sick Captain was adorable to the ex-Borg.

“You look so small, Captain.”  
  
“I feel small. Except my head. It feels really big.” Janeway noticed the tray with a soup bowl covered by a tea towel. “Is that for me?”

Seven nodded, “It is what your mother would call, “home-made.” In that I replicated the ingredients and made the soup by hand. It is an old Earth custom your mother told me about in our message exchanges.” Janeway knew that Seven and her mother had bonded months ago when Voyager was able to send and receive messages. She had no idea what they talked about and her mother wouldn’t tell her, “That’s between Seven and I,” Gretchen would scold.

“I hope that goes both ways,” Janeway grumbled. “I’m her Captain. I don’t want her knowing my private life.” But, now, with the appearance of her mother’s chicken soup, she had no more complaints about Seven and her mother conspiring against her.

“Seven? You made my mother’s chicken soup? When? How?”

“Last week, when you stated that you would fight the cold off, I asked her in our bi-weekly missive what to give you when you failed.”

She gently sat the tray on the bed next to the Captain then grabbed two pillows, fluffed them and tenderly positioned them behind Janeway’s back. Kathryn scooched into position, had a coughing fit, fell over and decided to just stay laying on her side until she got the energy to sit up again. She felt the bed sag and realized Seven was sitting on the edge, staring at her. She reached her hand out and rubbed it across the Captain’s back. “This is painful to see, Captain.”

“It’s just a cold. I’ll be alright, in 7-10 days. Will you help me up, Seven? I’m starving.”

Seven leaned down, put her arms around the Captain’s slender form and pulled her into a sitting position against the pillows. She picked up the tray and carefully scooped soup into a spoon and brought it to Janeway’s mouth.

“Are you going to feed me?”

“Your mother said it would help. She said you would behave as an infant. And I was to indulge you. She also said you would require a lot of what she called TLC. I have not found anything in the doctor’s medical supplies that contain this compound. I am sorry, Captain.”

This set Janeway on a laughing/coughing fit. “It’s not a compound, Seven. It’s short for Tender Loving Care.”

Seven’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Your mother told me to give you tender loving care?”

“It’s just a saying.”

“But it was an order. I cannot disobey the order of my Captain’s mother.” Seven put her spoon down, reached up and brushed a damp lock of hair from her Captain’s forehead. Janeway instinctively flinched, unused to being touched so intimately.

“Did I damage you?” Seven asked.

“No, no,” Janeway smiled, “I was surprised is all… I’m not… used to being babied.”

“I have never been ‘babied’ is it pleasant?”

Janeway closed her eyes, “Yes, Seven. It is very pleasant.”

This earned the hint of a smile from her Astrometrics officer as she stroked her Captain’s cheek. Janeway began to lean into the touch, then, realizing what she was doing, she gently took Seven’s hand and pulled it away. “You’re very sweet, Seven, but, be careful, I’m still contagious.”

“Not to me. My nanoprobes would destroy the virus before it even started.”

“Oh. Lucky me.”

Seven finished feeding the Captain, who seemed grateful for the help. She was quite touched at Seven’s awkward attempts to give her the secret human compound of TLC. When she was done, Janeway burrowed back under her covers like a naked mole rat and fell into a deep sleep. The young blonde retreated to the living room to do some work while the Captain slept. She found it hard to concentrate, her mind running over the moment she turned the corner and saw how fragile and small the commanding redhead seemed. This had caused a constricting of her throat and anguish at the realization that her Captain was not invulnerable. This generated strange tingling in the lower part of her abdomen. She could not identify the emotion connected with the sensation. It seemed like fear but contained other emotions as well. Something she identified as the feeling she had for Naomi Wildman. Affection? Love? Concern? Protectiveness? She could not separate these feelings. They all seemed to have burst out at the same moment. Seven knew, of course, that she was in love with her Captain. And had been doing research for several weeks, attempting to find an approach that the Captain would be willing to listen to. She had come up empty and was upset at the complexity and unspoken rules of Humanity.

The ex Borg had learned a great deal from the Doctor about Humanity, and even more from the Captain but, in her twice weekly messages back and forth to Janeway’s mother, Gretchen, she had learned more than with the other two combined. Seven had been surprised but pleased when Captain Janeway’s mother had started sending her messages. Apparently the Captain had informed her that Seven did not receive messages from friends and family and Gretchen had reached out to the young woman.

Shortly after their video friendship began, Gretchen immediately understood that Seven of Nine was in love with her daughter. She said nothing. She had also surmised, from Kathryn’s messages, that her daughter shared Seven’s feelings. It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else but a mother. She’d seen her daughter in love before and she had it bad for Seven. She also knew that Kathryn was Starfleet through and through, like her father, and she would never indulge in a relationship with a crewmember. Gretchen didn’t share that opinion. She was worried about the life Kathryn would live out in the Delta Quadrant, on Voyager, alone. Her fiery redhead was too vital, too young to renounce love for herself. As a mother, naturally, she wanted her daughter to have a shoulder to lean on, a confidante, someone who could bring tenderness and calm into her life aboard the starship while they were making their thirty year journey home. Seven of Nine was the perfect person. Although she claimed to be less than human, Gretchen had found her to be quite the opposite.

She had taken to correcting Seven whenever she made statements referring to her Borg-ness, or her lack of ability to claim her full humanity. “That’s not true, Seven. You are very human, and you understand as much about humanity as any other person does. We all encounter human habits and rules and behaviors that make no sense. You’re not alone in this.”

Over the months, Gretchen Janeway took it upon herself to end each message with an observation of something uniquely human in Seven. “That’s what’s going on at the farm, Seven. I’m so pleased to know that Naomi Wildman holds a special place in your heart. You are a loving person, Seven.”

She was essentially, mothering. And, maybe, because she’d never been mothered, Seven blossomed under the attention. The two women had grown incredibly close. Gretchen had come to love Seven and felt a maternal protectiveness for her. She decided that she would push Seven to express her true feelings to Kathryn, while simultaneously nudging Kathryn toward an acceptance of her feelings. It just needed to be in stealth mode, because her daughter would immediately put up her command mask and deny her more human needs. Until Gretchen could figure out a way to accomplish this, she wasn’t going to set Seven up for failure.

Then, by a stroke of luck, a cold virus was going around. Seven’s latest message informed her that “The Captain has confidence in her ability to remain immune to the virus.” Gretchen rolled her eyes. She had dealt with this kind of stubbornness before. Then, her breath caught at the next part of Seven’s message. “I believe the Captain will fail. She does not pay attention to how much she demands of herself and, in my time on Voyager, I have seen her work herself to exhaustion many times. There is nothing I can do to prevent this. But, I can be of assistance once she is ill. Gretchen, I do not mean to concern you, but I am worried for the Captain’s mental and physical health. She takes care of everyone and has no one to take care of her.” Seven paused, taking a deep breath, summoning her courage. “I would like to be that person, Gretchen Janeway.” Gretchen saw tears glistening, “I would like your assistance in guiding me in my care for the Captain. I would like to ease her burden in any way that I can.”

Gretchen ended the message and worriedly rubbed her eyes. How could Kathryn not see how extraordinary this young woman was? How lucky she would be to have her as a partner for her journey home? She knew she was going to have to violate some confidences if she was going to help Kathryn. She looked directly into the screen and started her message to Seven.

**< ><><><><><><><><><>**

Kathryn Janeway could feel someone shaking her shoulder, “Captain?”

“Go away.”

“You have slept for several hours. It is important to ingest nutrition and liquids.”

“Dismissed.”

The someone shook her harder. “Captain?”

“Brig… put you in the brig...”

Suddenly she was picked up and set on her feet. _“This is a weird dream,”_ she thought. Then, she realized she wasn’t dreaming…. “Seven? What’s wrong? What’s happening? Why are you in my quarters?”

“I have been here all day, Captain. Do you not remember the soup?”

Janeway slowly came back to reality, “Oh, god, yes, Seven. I’m so sorry. I’m afraid I’m out of it.”

“I know that sleep is beneficial for you in this state, but, you have not ingested any nutrition in eight hours.”

“Yes. Thank you, Seven. You can go now. I know you have work to get back to.”

“I am off duty until such time as I deem you are capable of caring for yourself.”

“I can take care of—” Janeway began coughing. Deep, rattling, chest-rumbling coughs. She collapsed into Seven’s arms, who lowered her back into the bed.

“I have replicated a fruit juice, Gretchen said Cranberry has natural antibiotic qualities and blueberry is anti-inflammatory. I tasted it. It’s quite good.”

“You tasted my juice for me?”

“I wished to know if it was unpalatable,” The Borg coolly stated as she handed a glass of purplish liquid to her Captain. Janeway took a tentative sip, her eyes pointedly looking at the Borg. “Oh. That’s good.”

“Would you like some more soup? I made your mother’s beef stew. She said it is most important that you drink the ‘beef tea’ the stew creates.”

Janeway’s eyes lit up, “Oh, Seven, I loved my mother’s beef tea. I swear it fixed every childhood illness I ever had.” Without thinking, Janeway hugged the blonde fiercely. “I don’t know what I’d do without you Seven.”

“I will feed you your soup now, then I will give you your TLC, then you will retire for the evening.”

Janeway laughed at the way Seven treated TLC as part of the Captain’s healing regimen. “I think I can eat my soup myself…”

“You cannot. You are still very weak. Your hands are shaking. I will not hear any more protests, Captain Janeway.” Seven proceeded to scoop a spoonful of the stew and tenderly feed it to her bedraggled Captain.

“Anything interesting going on out there while I’m in here, holed up?

“The crew are excited about celebrating an old Earth custom in twelve days time. I believe it is called Valentine’s Day.”

“Valentine’s Day?”

“I understand that it is a day when two parties who have affection for each other express those affections.”

“Yes. Unfortunately, it was a sore spot for my mother because my father forgot every year.”

“Gretchen told me. She said it was customary to present floral arrangements, and boxes of high quality confections or gemstones arranged in extravagant ornamentations. And that your father called it ‘ridiculous’ and ‘unnecessary.’”

“I'm with him on that. One doesn’t need a designated day to let someone know they care for them.”

“I believe I would like it.”  
  
“Valentine’s Day? Expressing your deepest feelings? Seven, really, I never took you for a romantic.”

“I mean to have a day designated for such a difficult thing that does not come to one naturally. It is like an appointment, once a year, that you cannot miss. Like my alcove tune-up.” This brought howls of laughter from Janeway. “I’m sorry I called you a romantic.”

“Apology accepted.” Seven set the soup bowl aside and began to tidy Janeway’s room, fluff her pillows, “Your mother informed me that, when your father did present her with dead plant matter, he always selected her favorite, Camellia blossoms. I was not aware that humans had a preference for any particular plant.”

“Well, flowers aren’t just a plant, Seven. They’re quite beautiful, and each type represents a different meaning. Like Roses are for love and passion, daisies are for innocence. My mother loved Camellias because they mean, “My destiny is in your hands.” It was my father’s way of saying she was his destiny, no matter how Starfleet he was, she was his life.”

“I believe I like that sentiment. Especially as regards your mother. She is a superior destiny.”

“I agree.”

Seven sat back down on the Captain’s bed. “It is time for your TLC.” Seven repeated the gesture from that morning, simply brushing Janeway’s damp hair off her forehead, pressing her metal implants against her cheek to cool it. This time, when Janeway tried to pull away, Seven leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her Captain, gently stroking her back. “Your mother said if you continued to resist, I was to force this attention on you. She said you too often deny your need for comfort.”

“She’s right. My mother is never wrong when it comes to me. Thank you, Seven.”

The next few days drifted by as Janeway slowly recovered. She didn’t know how, but Seven always knew when she was awake and needed to eat or drink. That in itself had been desperately needed for the beleaguered Captain. She found she enjoyed having Seven around for hours every day. There was comfort and pleasure in drifting in and out of consciousness to the sound of the beautiful Astrometrics officer working at her desk or quietly tidying up. She especially loved the sound of the teaspoon clinking against her china cup, knowing it meant Seven had prepared her a special tea for her sore throat or stuffy nose. Janeway also delighted in being able to have lengthy philosophical discussions that stimulated her mind. They ranged from science to the arts, and the latest gossip on what ensign had invited what cadet to the Valentine’s celebration.

“Harry and Meghan Delaney? She’ll eat him alive.”

“I believe that is what he is hoping for,” replied the Borg coolly.

The biggest surprise had been how much Kathryn realized she needed the TLC her mother had ordered. At first, she’d been uncomfortable. She wasn’t one to need babying but, as the days wore on, Janeway found herself anticipating her affection from Seven. She noticed that when Seven’s arms wrapped around her, her heart rate slowed, her blood pressure dropped, her breathing evened out and she felt at complete peace. Seven would also gently brush sweaty hair off the Captain’s face, sooth her with a cold washcloth, hold her hand, rubbing it with her thumb until the exhausted redhead fell back to sleep. She could not remember the last time she had been so thoroughly taken care of.

When she was finally well enough to return to work, it was Seven who helped her into the ensuite, assisted in disrobing her and waited patiently outside the door for the Captain to finish. She couldn’t imagine trusting anyone else to do this for her. But, in the last week, Seven had done many things which necessitated seeing the Captain in various stages of undress and dishevelment and Seven had never made Janeway feel uncomfortable. She didn’t know how she was going to thank the young woman who had become essential to her wellbeing in the last few days.

Three days before the Captain returned to duty, Gretchen Janeway sent a message to her daughter, hoping it would arrive in time.

**< ><><><><><><><>**

The Captain entered her quarters, exhausted after her first day back on the bridge. She saw that her personal padd was flashing with a message. It was from her mother. She quickly sat to watch it.

“Katie, I hope you’re doing better. Seven said you were getting a cold. I don’t know if you did, but, honey, that girl loves you. She used her message last week to get all my recipes, and instructions on what you liked, what could she do for you, but, in that Seven voice. _“I require knowledge about the Captain so I may aid in her recovery.”_ That’s _“I love you”_ in Borg, honey. It’s like talking to the world’s most adorable robot.”

Her mother dropped her head and rubbed her eyes. “And what I’m about to say next is going to piss you off, but, Kathryn, I also know… that you are in love with Seven.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Was it that obvious?

“She’s all you talk about. And when you do, your eyes sparkle, the color comes back in your cheeks... Every time she’s in trouble, you go get her. For crying out loud, you let yourself be assimilated! I mean, seriously, who do you think you’re fooling?” Janeway watched as her mother shook her head. “I don’t know what kind of Starfleet plan you have in that head of yours, but you better toss it out an airlock and grab that precious thing while you still have a chance.” Her mother paused, considering something, “Also, because I know you inherited your father’s inability to pay attention to the calendar, you should know that Seven has been asking about Valentine’s Day. Which, by the time you get this, will be… today. It’s today, honey.”

Kathryn watched her mother struggle to hold back tears, “I don’t care what Starfleet says, I am your mother, and I say you must live a life, Kathryn. Mom out.”

Well, shit. Her mother had nailed her. One of the most infuriating qualities of her mother was her ability to see right through her. Everything she had done to never cross that line with Seven, and she hadn’t fooled anyone except herself. She had resisted because she wasn’t sure Seven had the capacity to be in a relationship. But the last week had proven her so wrong. On two counts.

One, that Seven couldn’t navigate a loving relationship. All week she had seen that she was full of all the instincts to soothe, comfort, support. The second error Janeway had made was believing she didn’t need a partner, someone significant to share her burdens with. She did need it, but she hadn’t realized how badly she craved it until Seven had showed up and seamlessly cared for her. Her mother was right.

Janeway tapped her comm badge, “Computer, Locate Seven of Nine.”

“Seven of Nine is outside your quarters.”

Janeway waited for the chime. None came.

“Computer, how long has Seven of Nine been standing outside my quarters?”

“One hour, eleven minutes, thirty two seconds.”

“I’ll be damned.” Janeway realized the young woman must have been standing there for over an hour, terrified that she’d be turned away. “Computer, open my door.” The door swooshed open and standing there, frozen, in a gorgeous silk dress, bearing a bouquet of camellias in one arm and chocolates in the other, was her deeply embarrassed Astrometrics officer.

“Hello, Seven.”

“I have done something ‘ridiculous’ and ‘unnecessary.’” She said, tears were welling in her eyes.

“Let me be the judge of that.” Janeway grabbed Seven by the arm and pulled her inside. Janeway turned to the tall gorgeous blonde and took the flowers, “Camellias,” she hummed.

"My destiny is in your hands, Captain."

She placed the flowers in a vase and led Seven to her couch. “I have a number of things I need to tell you. First, I need you to call me Kathryn.”

“Yes, Captain. Kathryn.”

“Do you know why I need you to call me Kathryn?”

Seven shook her head, mesmerized by the strange way the Captain was acting.

“Because, in private, with just us, I need to hear my actual name from the woman I love.”

Seven’s eyes grew wide. “You love me?” Kathryn nodded. “I… this is unexpected. What will happen now? I have never gotten this far in any human relationship.”

The Captain looked at the flustered Borg with such concern. She reached up, stroked her jaw. “Are you alright?”

Seven nodded.

“Seven, for any of this to work, I need to know what you’re feeling. Don’t push it down, or be ashamed of what it means. I know everything in this area is completely new to you. I need you to know that nothing you think or feel is wrong.”

“I am not sure this is real. I am elated, overwhelmed… scared. Maybe I won’t be any good with intimacy. I am inexperienced. I am still struggling with my humanity, perhaps I will not be a good partner.”

Suddenly, she felt Kathryn’s lips on hers. Felt her hands lovingly caress her face.

As she pulled away Seven grabbed her with both hands and pulled her into a deeper kiss. Mouths opened, tongues entwined, the two women moaned, moved closer, their arms surrounding each other, hands stroking along their backs. After long moments of this, Seven pulled back.

“Too much?” The Captain asked.

The Astrometrics Officer shook her head. “Not enough. I have been researching this and there is a way that humans celebrate a mutual declaration of love.”

“I am familiar with this ritual as well,” Janeway smiled. “But… are you ready for that? emotionally I mean?”

Seven looked concerned, “Will the emotions be painful?”

Janeway smiled, “No, honey. They’re just… well… intense.”

“I am Borg.”

“Well, in this case, that won’t help. It’s a thoroughly human activity filled with all the glorious sensations one human can contain.”

“I cannot say whether I am prepared for this activity because I have no reference for it. But, I feel my body aching to express how I feel. I am highly aroused, feeling pleasurable sensations in my groin, and a… desperation to find a release for their intensity.”

With that, Janeway took Seven’s hand and led her into the bedroom. She stood before her and stripped her uniform off, then stood naked to let Seven’s eyes to shamelessly explore her body. She revelled in the pleasure of watching Seven take it all in. Her pupils were so dilated her eyes were black, her breathing was in short and rapid huffs of unrestrained desire.

“You are exquisite,” Seven breathed. She reached up, released a clasp on her dress and let it puddle on the floor, exposing her metal-scarred body. “I am less perfect.” Kathryn gently reached out and smoothed her hand along the implants on Seven’s ribs and belly, “These are part of you and they’re beautiful.”

They slid under the sheets and spent time accustoming Seven to the intensity of sexual touch. Each new touch sent the young ex-Borg into such an intensity of emotion she would begin to tremble and Kathryn would back off until she was ready to proceed.

It was like this all night and Janeway luxuriated in it. Touching her breasts, watching Seven writhe with abandonment until she cried out, “Stop.” Kathryn would pause, go back to holding her, kissing her while Seven adjusted then, when ready, would call out, “Proceed.”

Each new touch was a wonder to behold for Seven. She had not even realized she wanted her breasts to be touched until Kathryn touched them. She closed her eyes and felt her body fill with an ache so intense she feared she would lose consciousness. Her Borg systems were working overtime clocking her reactions. She noted the charge of electricity that shot from her breasts to her midsection then traveled to her groin. She noted the shock of moisture appearing between her legs that this action caused. She noted how this made her crave for her groin to be touched, how there was an insistent throb deep inside her vagina that ached for something… what, she did not know. Kathryn was endlessly patient, easing Seven past each precipice with her expert attentions with her hands, her fingers, her lips, her tongue. It was glorious.

Given the go ahead, Kathryn replaced her hands on Seven’s breasts with her mouth, sucking at her nipples, teasing them to stiffness. Again, Seven found herself filling with wetness, aching for more. When it became too much, she placed her hand on Janeway’s head and gently pushed her away. They lay in bed, kissing and holding each other as Seven got her breathing back under control. After long moments she whispered, “Proceed.”

Janeway made her way down Seven’s body, kissing and licking her abdomen, teasing her fingers along her pubic line. Stop and go. Stop and go. Finally, Kathryn made her way between Seven’s thighs. The mere sight of her Captain’s face, nestled between her thighs was the most erotic thing Seven had ever seen. Her iron-willed, protocol obsessed Captain, come undone, between her legs. “Stop,” she moaned breathlessly.

They paused and waited. “Proceed.”

She was not prepared for what happened next. She felt the Captain’s tongue, warm and wet, slide along her labial folds then up and around her clitoris. “Stop!” Again, they waited, Seven pulling in rasping breaths, aching, terrified. She nodded for the Captain to proceed and Kathryn bent her head to her work again. This time Seven could tolerate three passes around her labia and clitoris.

She was seized by a strange conflict: Wanting everything to continue until completion and yet, needing it to stop because she was overwhelmed at each new sensation. It was the single most pleasurable pain she had ever experienced. She looked down at Kathryn, her face between her legs, turned up to her, checking on her status. She was lovingly stroking Seven’s bottom, kissing her pubic bone just above her clitoris. “Proceed.”

Janeway flicked her tongue out, once again making the circuit from labia to clitoris. She felt Seven suddenly let go and be in the experience. She began to find places with her tongue that Seven most preferred, noting a particular spot to the right of her clitoris which seemed the most receptive to her attentions. She learned that, if she flattened her tongue along that area, and narrowed it to a finer point around her entrance, she could dip her tongue inside, thrust it deeper, to the glorious sounds of Seven’s gasps and whimpers, She would then pull out, stroke her way up and around, flattening it as she approached Seven’s clit where she would pause her journey and concentrate on flattening, licking, gliding along it with enthusiasm.

As she lost herself in the heady musk of her Astrometrics Officer, she felt Seven tensing and, caught up in her own deep ache of desire, gripped Seven’s buttocks, lifted her legs up over her shoulders and pulled her hard into her mouth, licking and sucking with abandon. She felt the young woman arch up and emit a gutteral cry as her climax slammed into her. Kathryn continued her ministrations unabated and watched with satisfaction as her young protégé arched even higher, her entire body seized in contractions for what seemed like minutes. When she collapsed back on the bed, Kathryn slid up to hold her, whispering how delicious she’d been, how arousing her scent was.

When Seven recovered, she turned to her Captain, her eyes wide, “Did I lose consciousness?”

“No, sweetheart. You had an orgasm. Although, it can feel like a loss of consciousness. The French called it “La Petit Morte.”

“The little death?” 

Kathryn nodded, “So, you’re experience is not unusual.”

She pushed Janeway back on the bed, straddling her, her voice gravelled with desire, “I will now make love to you.” Thank god, Kathryn thought. She didn’t know what she was going to do with all this pent up sexual energy. As she lay back her chronometer went off. It was 6 am. They’d been at this all night. Janeway groaned, “Oh god. I have to go to work.”

“You do not.”

“I’m afraid I do.”

“I requested three days off for you. Personal priority.”

“Someone sure was confident about what was going to happen last night.”

“I was not confident. But, I have learned from you that one must prepare for their desired outcome.”

Seven slid a hand over the red head’s breast, teased at it with her fingers.

“Proceed.” Janeway husked.

**< ><><><><><><><>**

Chakotay was worried about the Captain. She’d been back one day and now had called out for three more days. He made his way to her quarters, wanting to check on her and make sure she was okay. He approached her door and rang the chime.

“Captain Janeway has placed a privacy lock on her quarters,” the computer coolly told him.

That was strange. He tapped his commbadge, “Computer, where is Captain Janeway?”

“Captain Janeway is in her bedroom.”

“Is she alright? Has she experienced any medical issues?”

“She has experienced rapid heartbeat, shortness of breath and excessive perspiration.”

Shit. She was sick again. “Computer, override privacy lock, priority StarFleet Alpha Rho Beta.”

“The lock cannot be overrode.” That made no sense, that was the highest emergency override in SF. It was to guard against any officer becoming incapacitated while privacy locks were active.

“Computer, why can’t the Captain’s door be unlocked by Starfleet command Alpha Rho Beta.”

“The lock has been protected by a Borg Encryption.”

Borg? “Computer, locate Seven of Nine.”

“Seven of Nine is in the Captain’s quarters.”

Chakotay paused for a moment. “Computer, where in the Captain’s quarters is Seven of Nine?”

“Seven of Nine is in the Captain’s bedroom.”

He quickly ran over the computer’s list of “symptoms.” Rapid heartbeat, shortness of breath, excessive perspiration... as it hit him, he turned, mortified and fled. “The Captain and Seven,” he mused, “I guess they finally figured out what all that tension was about.”


End file.
